


Hurts That Go Too Deep

by Liberte_Egalite_Broadway



Category: Merlin (TV), TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur is a dollophead, Crossover, Frodo Baggins has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Gaius is trying to help, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It's Prince Arthur actually, Post-Quest of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway/pseuds/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway
Summary: "Gaius," said the King suddenly. "What news do you have that calls us here?""Forgive me, sire," said the physician with a bow. He pulled out a slip of paper. "My friend in that land gave me news. It would appear that the Ring of Power was discovered again.""So it is true," Uther murmured."It has been found, my liege, but the Ring has also been destroyed."~~~After the destruction of the Ring, those harmed in it's quest are sent to the best healer in the Five Kingdoms - Gaius the Physician. But the people of Camelot are also changed by the encounters that follow. A Lord of the Rings/Merlin crossover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for my editor and friend. I've crossed Merlin and LotR before, but three other fandoms were there too and it was mostly a crack fic. This time I actually have to think. :) Enjoy!

King Uther surveyed the advisors gathered before him. Arthur waited, just behind his chair, one hand resting on the side to seem casual. Secretly, though, he was ill at ease. Gaius has just received what he said to be news of great importance... which could mean nearly anything.

"Gaius," said the King suddenly. "What news do you have that calls us here?"

"Forgive me, sire," said the physician with a bow. He stepped forward and held out an envelope. "I have just received word." He hesitated. "From Middle-Earth."

A shadow crossed Uther's face. "We have not had dealings with them in many years." 

Ever since he discovered that the people there still accepted magic.

"Yes, your majesty, but this is different." He pulled out a slip of paper. "My friend in that land gave me news. It would appear that the Ring of Power was discovered again." 

Chattering broke out over the assembly. Arthur's fist clenched on the back of the chair. The Ring of Power - so many people in Uther's realm believed it to be another myth, one of the many foolish stories that came out of Middle-Earth. It was certainly the oddest of the five kingdoms - with men half as high as usual and trees that could walk, or so the other myths said. But unlike those foolish tales, the legend of the One Ring was one that was feared, whispered of, recorded fully only in volumes long since locked away.

"So it is true," Uther murmured.

"It has been found, my liege, but the Ring has also been destroyed." 

All the talk ceased. Ten pairs of shocked eyes locked onto Gaius' face. 

"By two halflings," he continued. "Who are now in Minas Tirith, healing." 

"You know this?" asked Uther. "How?"

"Their guardian has come, seeking my counsel." 

The king's face twisted, and the shadow across it deepened. "I ordered," he said softly and dangerously, "that the people of this land do not deal with those of...  _Middle-Earth."_

"Father, they've done no wrong to us," Arthur protested, lifting a hand. "If they hadn't destroyed the Ring, that darkness could have spread here -"

"They practice  **magic!** " Uther shouted, and swiped a hand through the air. His fist hit his wine glass, splashing the red liquid across the floor like blood. A moment later, it was followed by a  _clang_ as the goblet landed in the already widening pool.

The air was still and nervous for a moment; then Uther sat down. "Forgive me," he said. "I let my emotions get the best of me."

 _Again,_ thought everyone in the room. 

The king cleared his throat and then waved a hand. "Gaius, I wish to speak with you alone. You there, boy..."

He pointed to the corner. Arthur followed his finger and was almost surprised to see that Merlin was standing there, half-hidden behind a pillar, like a shadow.  _That's right_ ,  Arthur remembered. As his servant, Merlin always attended the meetings, for Arthur's convenience. Yet he rarely ever made his presence known. 

"Come clean this up," said the king, pointing to the wine. With that, he got up and retreated with Gaius into a corner. 

 

Frodo buried his face in his hands. Another long day had finally drawn to a close. Another long day of celebrations and feasts and...

...endless, insufferable pain that never seemed to leave him. 

He sighed and flopped backwards onto his soft white bed.  Aragorn was King, he and Sam and Merry and Pippin were the heroes of Gondor. He even heard that messages were being spread to the other four kingdoms, headed by Gandalf. There were endless banquets to honor them, and endless formalities so Aragorn could assume his role. And Frodo was happy for him, but...

"You're tired, aren't you?" 

Frodo opened one eye and looked over at the doorway, where Sam stood. He sat up and waved his companion and best friend over to his side. "I'm exhausted, Sam," he said. "I am happy for Strider, but these cursed feasts get tiring easily. I wish I could disappear and not go to them!" 

"Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are happy, though," Sam said. "Plenty o' food. Why, they can even reach the table with them big folk of Gondor! It's a plain miracle how tall they've gotten." 

"Mmm," Frodo murmured, only half aware of what he was agreeing to. Sam sat down next to him, and Frodo rested against his shoulder. Sam wrapped an arm around him, and they were silent for a long moment. At the end of this, his friend spoke up. 

"It's not just tired, is it?" he asked softly. "You're hurtin', too. I can tell you are." 

"I am," Frodo confessed. "I can still... well, I can still feel the chain around my neck, Sam dear, and I wonder sometimes if it will ever really be gone. It's not as heavy as It was when real... but I can still feel the Ring's pull. It's still such a weight." He closed his eyes, but he could still feel Sam looking at him sadly. "Don't pity me, Sam," he said. "I may deserve better than what I got in Mordor, but I don't deserve that. Not from you." 

"I don't pity you. I'm proud of you." 

"I don't deserve that either." 

Sam kissed his forehead and said no more.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf and Gaius talk. Frodo and Sam are not doing any better so the two wizards come up with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story falls post-quest in LotR, and in season two in Merlin. In case anyone was confused. :)

Merlin lifted the latch of Gaius's door with his mind and threw it open. His arms were full of Arthur's laundry for the day - already an enormous stack, since the prince had sleeping clothes, sparring clothes, court clothes, towels from his bath, bedsheets that for some reason needed changing  _every single day_...

"Gaius, if I have to do this any longer, my arms are going to -"

Merlin looked up as he spoke and then stopped mid-sentence as he realized that Gaius was not alone. An old man with long hair and a beard sat at the table, looking quite at his leisure. 

"Oh - sorry -" Merlin stammered. 

"Merlin," said Gaius calmly. "Come in. This is an old friend, Gandalf. He comes as a messenger from Middle-Earth."

Merlin inclined his head awkwardly, as the laundry kept him from bowing.

"You need not look so uncomfortable," said the old man with a laugh. He rose and bowed in return. "Gaius has told me of you. Your name is Merlin, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." Merlin wondered if Gandalf had seen him lifting the latch with magic.

"And you need not worry about using your gifts around me," Gandalf continued, and Merlin jumped. "I too am trained in the arts of magic." 

"Gandalf is one of the Istari," said Gaius. 

Merlin's eyes widened. The Istari were the five strongest wizards in Middle-Earth. Their magic was far more powerful than the small tricks he and Gaius could do. Merlin set down the laundry basket so he could bow fully. 

"What - er, what can we do for you?" he asked. 

Gandalf sat down again. "I came to speak with Gaius of an urgent matter. You have heard of the destruction of the Ring, haven't you, Merlin?"

"It was destroyed by two halflings, right?"

"Correct, Merlin." He smiled and then turned to Gaius. "I received word while you visited with Uther that the Ring-bearers are awake. However, both of them are still in pain. They suffer. Especially Frodo, who carried the Ring for most of the journey."

"Merlin, why don't you go do your chores," said Gaius. 

Merlin nodded, bowed, quietly gathered up the laundry, and retreated into his room. He set the clothes in a washtub, charmed the brushes to scrub without his help, and then went back to the keyhole to eavesdrop, pressed against the door with his hand on the knob.

"And no treatment has worked?" Gaius was saying.

"None," replied Gandalf. "I fear their wounds go deeper than the scars across their bodies. Their minds were wounded as well." He sighed. "Made worse by the fact that they are scarcely given a moment's peace. All in Gondor wish to honor them, when what they truly need is rest."

Merlin was just reaching an idea when Gandalf spoke.

"I know," he said, "That it is a large request. However -"

"I will do what I can to restore them," Gaius pledged. 

Gandalf sighed. "Thank you, my friend."

Suddenly Merlin's hand slipped, twisting the knob. The door swung open and he fell out, down the three steps that led up to his room. Gaius and Gandalf both turned to look at him. The Istari laughed, while Gaius looked disapproving.

"Not to worry," Gandalf said, getting up and putting on his hat. "There is nothing we have said that you should not have heard. Well, I think I shall be off now, Gaius. If Uther discovers my presence I may have to deal with him." He winked. "Look for me again before the close of the month. I will have the Ring-bearers with me."

Merlin bowed awkwardly. Gaius also bid the Istari farewell. He was out the door and down the steps before either of them could say any more. 

Gaius turned to Merlin with one eyebrow raised and gestured back to his room. "Don't you have chores to do, Merlin?"

"Right." Merlin scrambled back up the steps and into his room, where the brushes had scrubbed so vigorously that Arthur's breeches were now full of suds. Merlin sighed, called off the spell, and got back to work. 

 

Frodo couldn't sleep. 

He had lain awake for three hours, hoping he would drift off - to no avail. Ever since Gandalf had returned and given him the news, he had felt... scared.

It was foolish, but he couldn't help it. When he heard he and Sam were to be sent to Camelot for healing, the first response in his mind was to wonder what was wrong with him, only to remember. The ring, the fire, the horrible pain...

He was not used to being this person, this new Frodo, while at the same time slowly letting it consume him. He did not want to be consumed. He did not want to become someone that he wasn't.

But to find healing in  _Camelot_...

There were stories of executions there, of a kingdom filled with terrible struggles. All beings considered magical - including those who practiced the arts of the old religion or toyed with its trinkets - were shunned, persecuted, and at worst, killed. Would he be treated in such a manner?

Frodo rolled over and covered his ears. No, he had been invited, he would be welcomed. And then, hopefully, he would be healed. 

He exhaled and rolled onto his back again. His eyes closed on their own.

 _There is no healing left for you in this world,_ a voice whispered into his head.  _Only in the West can you become as you once were._

Pondering this thought, Frodo slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ringbearers arrive in Camelot. One of them finds help in places unlooked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake - I need this to take place around Season One of Merlin. Morgana isn't evil, Nimueh isn't dead, Gwen and Arthur aren't a thing, etc. etc. You shall see why later on. ;)

Sam found he could only stare at all the wonders of Camelot. 

He knew the place would be grand, of course - grander than anything the Shire had to offer, and that was to be expected. But something in his mind had always assumed that Minas Tirith, the Gondor city, would beat out all that this place had to offer. He saw now that he was wrong. 

Towers as tall as Oliphaunts - no taller - and stonework everywhere you looked. This place had been expensive and no mistake. But it was beautiful, in a cold sort of way. 

He turned around and went back to the cart, where Frodo had just climbed down. He stared around at the sight, his gorgeous blue eyes even wider than usual. Finally he tuned to Sam. "Are we really here?"

"Yes, Frodo," said Gandalf, getting down. "We have reached the city of Camelot."

"But, from the way people talked about it, I had always thought that it would be... well, that it would be more  _savage._ The people here are said to be so cruel."

"And some of them may be," replied the Wizard. "But here you will find goodness unlooked for, as you did on your quest. Not everyone, even in the most evil of places, can be entirely cruel."

Frodo shook his head, struggling to comprehend. It was plain enough to see that he was exhausted, and needed a good lie-down. Sam took his arm gently. 

"Might's well find where we're going," he suggested, and Frodo nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, let's go."

 

Merlin finished putting sheets and blankets on the bed, and left just in time. He later learned that the ring-bearers arrived only moments after he departed. Gaius would certainly not have been pleased to discover that the heroes of Middle-Earth had needed to wait for a servant to leave before making use of their room.

He wasn't supposed to see them or bother them. He was just supposed to change their sheets and sweep their floors and then go back to his usual duties.

"You're late, Merlin," said Arthur when Merlin rushed into his room with a clean load of laundry.

"Sorry-sorry," said Merlin. "I had to fix up the chambers-" he gestured in the direction from which he'd come, "-for the halflings..." He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "And then I'd left this upstairs. Sorry."

"Oh, that's alright," said Arthur. 

Merlin hesitated. "Really?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Oh," Merlin sighed. "Oh, good."

"I understand that since you're late, you'll be more than happy to work longer than usual to make up for your missed time."

Merlin stared at him. "But -"

"Unless you want to do extra work in addition to the usual," suggested Arthur. 

"No, it's fine," Merlin grumbled. Arthur smirked and swept out of the room. 

There were always more chores to be done. There was always another set of armor to be polished, another stall to muck out, another bed to make up, and more laundry to do. Sometimes Merlin wondered if Arthur was deliberately tormenting him - other times, he knew that this was the case, and it took every shred of willpower he possessed to keep from lashing out in fury. It was hard, but he kept his emotions in check. Without magic, he had no idea how he would be able to do all the work. 

Did Arthur just want some way to vent, and so dumped work on Merlin, or did he take pleasure in bothering him? Or maybe did he actually hate him, for some reason?

Whatever the case, there was no time to think about it. Merlin picked up a broom and crouched down to sweep under the bed. 

He had work to do. 

 

~~~

 

It was midnight when Morgana finally realized that she was never going to sleep. She had lain awake for so long, and it was frustrating. Finally she gave up and kicked off her blankets and twined her hair softly into a braid. There. Now that was at least a bit better, it had been bothering her for a while, all damp with sweat from the nightmare that had woken her up to begin with. 

Since she couldn't sleep, she might as well walk a little. Softly, she put on the slippers lying next to her bed and fluttered over to her wardrobe, from which she took a green dressing gown. She picked up one of the candles that always burned in the alcove above her vanity, and started out the door. 

The castle at night was a solemn place. Here and there, every ten minutes or so, she might pass a guard or a servant, out on some unknown nightly routine, but for the most part, the world slept. Torches burned dimly in sconces set on the wall, and every noise that she made seemed to  _echo echo_ off the cold walls. 

Morgana had a loop set up that she had taken rather often. First, out her door and down the hall out of the sleeping quarters, and then around the castle, down a staircase, past the throne room, and across the hall with arches that showed the courtyard below. There were always guards stationed down there, and the presence of human lives - however distant - was a comfort that made these walks more bearable. To tell the truth, she hated this. She hated having to roam the stony halls, caught up in her own private witching hour, when respectable people were sleeping. Yet nothing that Gaius gave her would get these nightmares out of her head. 

And it was getting worse. Even Gwen pointed out that there were circles under her eyes. Perhaps one day, they would get to be so bad that all the powder in the world couldn't hide them. 

She stopped abruptly as she realized that she wasn't the only person in this hall. Standing about halfway down, with a hand resting on the sill of one of the arches, was a young boy with dark hair that, like Morgana's, appeared black in the darkness. With a start she realized that it wasn't a child - he was one of the halflings, the guests they were hosting from Middle-Earth. The Ringbearer. What was his name...

"Frodo?" she called. He flinched and turned his head slightly. Morgana hesitated towards him. "It is... Frodo, isn't it?"

The halfling turned to look at her, and she noticed tear tracks along his porcelain cheeks. In the moonlight, his skin seemed pure white, and almost glowing, like some elf from the myths of his homeland. He was... beautiful, almost, in the way that a sculpture or a bead of fine glass is beautiful in perfection. His eyebrows and lips wavered, unsure what expression to take. Morgana took a step closer. 

"I'm - Morgana," she stammered out awkwardly. "You don't have to be afraid." 

Frodo angled his body towards her and folded in a bow. "Lady Morgana." His piercing blue eyes stared at the ground and, in doing so, caught sight of her slippers. He looked up. "You should be sleeping."

"So should you," she replied. Frodo glanced away. 

"I meant no offense, Lady. Forgive me." He turned to go. "I'll leave you."

"Wait -" called Morgana, and he turned around. She set her candle on the ground. "I... I couldn't help but notice. Were you crying earlier?"

Frodo sighed and looked away, out the arch and down to the steps of the castle. "I come out here so that no one will hear me..." He shook his head and hung it. "I suffer from nightmares, Lady Morgana," he whispered to the ceiling. "I would prefer not to awaken my hosts with the sounds of my unhappiness." His gorgeous eyes fixed on her suddenly. "Did I wake you?"

"Oh no," said Morgana. She stood on the opposite side of the column he was nearest, and laid her hands on the sill, following his gaze. "No, I came out here to walk." She rolled the next few words around on her tongue. Oh, he had already said it, what was the harm in confessing their similarity? "The truth is, I have nightmares a lot, too," she said. "But I haven't performed any brave deeds... not like you, I'm sure. They just come for no reason." It was so hard... "It's so hard. To be the only one who can't live a normal life because the gods chose to make something wrong with me." 

Frodo was watching her now. Morgana brushed back a wisp of her hair that had come unwound from her braid. 

"It's been happening since I was a child," she said softly. "No one knows why. Even Gaius can't fix me."

The Ringbearer looked at her, then turned back to staring out of the arch. "That's two things we have in common, then."

Morgana whipped her head towards him, but he didn't meet her eyes. Throughout this entire conversation, she wasn't sure they had made eye contact once. Still, there was an easiness in the way he talked - a strange connection forged in things that had never even happened to her, which had plagued him in dreams since they happened to him. Already she was surprised at how much she had told him. It was almost like talking to Merlin, in how effortless it felt. In that moment, Morgana made up her mind to help the Ringbearer. 

"Are you cold, Frodo?" she asked suddenly. "You can have my robe if you want it." 

He smiled a little. "I doubt it would fit me, Lady."

Morgana stared at him, then found herself chuckling. "No. No, I suppose not." 

Frodo turned around and their eyes finally met. "Lady Morgana, do you ever talk about your nightmares to anyone?"

"Isn't that what I'm doing right now?"

Frodo laughed a little. "I suppose so. But I meant to anyone you know, someone you trust." 

She considered this. Did she ever talk about her nightmares to anyone? There were Gaius' counseling/therapy sessions. There were the late nights she confessed to Gwen, as the girl brushed her hair - but in those, she only described that the nightmares had happened, not what was in them. In fact, she had not even now confessed what was in them...

"No," she admitted. "But I do have a horse."

Frodo arched an eyebrow. "A horse?"

She nodded. "I ride. Frequently." 

"And the horse knows all your secrets?"

"Oh, of course. I don't trust anyone else."

"Sounds like a strong bond, then."

"Stronger than all the warriors in Camelot."

They both laughed for a while, before Morgana asked,

"Do you?"

"Ride?"

"No, tell about your nightmares."

He nodded. "It helps," he said. "I have someone I trust who I tell everything to. I try not to hold anything back." His eyes closed; the feathery lashes sent shadows across his cheeks. "It helps, when things get especially dark, to have a small ray of light that you can access just by whispering a single word." He was in a different world now, and Morgana was clearly forgotten. "To curl up in his arms," he whispered, "and feel them secure around you and know that you're safe..."

He stopped. Just as Morgana was about to ask who his ray of light was, she heard a voice from behind her. 

"Mr. Frodo?"

Both she and the Ringbearer turned to see the other hobbit, Sam, turn into the hall from the corridor that met it. The light from the torch he carried illuminated his messy red-gold hair and shone off it, shadowing his pleasant, freckled face ever so slightly. He halted when he saw her. "Oh! Forgive me." He bowed awkwardly. "Sorry, Lady..."

"Morgana," she finished. "Don't apologize. I was just talking with your friend." She stepped to the side so she wouldn't obstruct his view of Frodo. 

"Hullo, Sam," said Frodo. In an instant, Sam was at his side and had him by the hand.

"Are you alright? You didn't go wanderin' off in your sleep again, did you?"

"No, I'm fine." 

"Come back or you'll catch cold..."

They both looked up at Morgana, as if remembering her presence.

"Good night, then, Lady Morgana," said Frodo. "Thank you for your conversation. It was of greater value to me than you know."

"And thank you," said Morgana. "Good night."

She watched as the two went off down the hall again. When they were gone, she picked up her candle and stared back into the darkness, feeling more alone then she had ever felt before. And yet, though she was by herself, she didn't feel frozen inside any more. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo worsens and Sam wonders how to help.

Gaius scoured the books in the Camelot library to find something that might help Frodo. 

The Ringbearer was plainly tormented. The scars across his body were beginning to heal (save of course for his missing finger) but his mind was so plainly damaged that Gaius wondered how he could ever help.

Frodo was plagued by nightmares every time he closed his eyes. At any moment in the day, a sight or a sound could trigger something in him, causing him to flinch and drop off into a flashback. He as trying to be strong and to work through them - but nothing helped him. The physician, when coming in to bring some new treatment, often found Frodo huddled in a corner with his hands over his ears. 

Gaius gave him medicine to help him sleep, but they only made his nightmares last longer. 

 

 

Merlin went into the Ringbearer's room one morning to clean. Morgana ha advised Frodo that taking walks could help, so he was off and Merlin had a few minutes before he needed to be in Arthur's chambers to do his chores. He expected the room to be empty.

To his surprise, the other hobbit - Sam, Merlin thought his name was - was sitting at the table writing a letter. When Merlin came in he jumped up and gave a quick bow. 

"Begging your pardon, sir. I can be goin'."

"Oh - sorry -" said Merlin. "No, it's my fault. I didn't know you were in here."

Sam nodded, red-faced. "I can-"

"No no no." Merlin stammered. "I'm - I'm just the servant."

Sam seemed to relax a little, and Merlin realized that he was probably Frodo's servant, giving them something in common. "I just came in to sweep up and take the laundry, and everything."

"I've done all that," said Sam. 

"Oh."

There was a moment of awkward silence, before Merlin backed up. "I'll just leave you, then...?"

"Wait a bit," said Sam, going red again. "Er, if it's not too much trouble I was wonderin'... if I might ask you something."

"Sure." 

"It's Mr. Frodo, see," said the hobbit in a hurry. "You work for that physician - Mr. Gaius, there. He's been right kind to us and tried to help Frodo out an' all... but it's no good and he's not no better. I was just wonderin' if maybe... maybe you knew somethin' he might not. Some idea for how to help him." 

"Not off the top of my head," said Merlin, and then got an idea. "But - I might know someone who does."

"Who?"

"Ask Geoferry, the librarian to find a book for you."

Sam's face fell. Merlin raised an eyebrow - maybe this hobbit liked to stay in the background.

Maybe they had even more in common then he'd imagined

"Tell you what - I can show you where it is after I finish my work."

"Really?" asked Sam, and the light flooded back into his brown eyes. "Only - not when Mr. Frodo's around. I don't want him to get more worried, see."

"Of course. Well, meet me this evening, in the hall. That's when Gaius will be talking to Frodo."

Sam beamed. "Right smart. Thank you, Mr. -"

"Call me Merlin." Merlin pushed open the door and started out. "See you soon." 

 

Uther's fingers tightened around the wineglass in his hand as he barely listened to the counsellors. Gaius had deigned to reveal this morning that the source of that infernal shouting was the hobbit, the dark-haired one, who apparently had frequent nightmares. Uncomfortable as he had been in allowing visitors from those lands - those who dealt in magic and spells - he had been assured that these halflings did not practice the dark arts, and decided to begrudgingly treat them as guests. But the bedroom reserved for guests of honor was in the same wing as Uther's personal chamber. And the stone walls of the castle reflected sound a little too well.

That old man, now, who was frequently seen speaking with Gaius... there was something Uther found suspicious in his air and manner of walking. The way that he clutched the staff whispered of some threat. Perhaps the king was simply paranoid.

All he knew was that the sooner these guests were gone, the better he would feel. 

 

Sam found it hard to get away, but with enough excuses and promises to return he managed to be down by the hall in time to meet Merlin. 

Merlin was standing there already, holding a torch. He smiled and then waved for Sam to follow. 

"Geoffery's pretty good about letting you borrow things, so long as you give them back," he called over his shoulder. "And make sure you don't talk too loud or he'll throw you out of the library."

"Thank you again, sir," muttered Sam humbly. 

"You're welcome." Merlin beamed and then led the hobbit up a flight of stairs. "So - down this hall. The library is through those oak doors."

Sam gulped up at the enormous doors looming just ahead. They were so heavy-looking and fancy and... 

...Tall...

"Something wrong?" asked Merlin. Sam flushed. 

"Er - no." He strode to the end of the hall and reached up, but as he'd expected, the heavy door ring was above his reach. He struggled for a moment, trying not to look too foolish. What the gaffer would say about this. 

"Oh, here," said Merlin, also sounding embarrassed. He set down the torch, pulled the doors open, and then picked it up again. "Go on in." 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Merlin find something interesting in the library. Meanwhile, Frodo worsens and Gaius wonders if anything can be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, where have I been! It's been like a MONTH and I still haven't written anything. I apologize, I have all these great ideas but am totally stuck on how to get to them. So, if this chapter isn't very good - stick around because the rest will be better. Promise!

Gaius rushed back into his chambers as he heard glass crash from within. Sticky liquids were spilled across the floor from his medicine cabinets, and the bottles they were in shattered in pieces on the floor around them. He stepped cautiously into the chamber, squinting through the dim light.

"Frodo?"

The hobbit was kneeling in the middle of this mess, tears rolling silently down his face from those enormous blue eyes. Gaius knelt quietly before him. 

"I'm sorry," Frodo gulped. "It was an accident."

"It's no matter," the physician said. "But how did it happen?"

Frodo swallowed hard. "I was just reading, and I started thinking about the ring... and I don't know what happened. I sort of came to and -"

"Don't worry, it can be fixed." Gaius straightened up and held out a hand; Frodo took it and let himself be pulled up. The physician let go and turned to the broken bottles. He wondered briefly if this were a good idea, but remembered that as Frodo was friends with Gandalf, he had probably seen magic before. He reached out a hand and said quietly, " _Gebétung."_ His eyes briefly flashed gold, and the jars repaired themselves, with the liquid flying back into them. They landed neatly on the table as if they had never been going. Gaius turned back towards a very confused Frodo. 

"How often does this happen?" he asked. 

"The... flashbacks?"

"Yes, precisely." 

Frodo pondered this for a moment, sinking into a chair with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his chin. "I'm not sure. It happens sometimes without me even realizing it until later. I just feel a chill when I think about something, or look at anything that reminds me..." He shrugged a little. "It began the first day that I woke up and it hasn't stopped since."

"Hmm..." Gaius pondered this for a moment. "And do these ever bring you pain?"

"Yes."

"I see." The physician went over to the bottles and picked up one that had a moment ago been broken. "Well, Frodo, until I can decide upon a more accurate diagnosis, I recommend you take this tonight before you go to sleep. It is the same medicine I've been giving to Morgana to help with her nightmares. Perhaps if you sleep better, your mind will be less anxious and you can relax. And don't wonder how I know you haven't been sleeping. Sam took it upon himself to report all your ailments to me."

Frodo smiled a little. "Did he? I am not surprised. Sam knows how to care for me better than I do." He took the bottle and tucked it into his pocket. "Is there anything else?" 

"Why don't you go for a short walk?" Gaius suggested. "Exercise is often helpful in falling asleep."

"Yes, I think I will." Frodo started towards the door. "Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius smiled and turned back to his potions.

_It is the least I can do for he who saved our world._

 

Sam returned to the table in the middle of the library with a stack of books that was almost as big as he was. Merlin smiled. 

"Do you want help with that?"

"No, thank you." Sam dumped the books across the table and then hopped up onto one of the small stools arranged around it. He opened up one of the books and began flipping through it. Merlin sat down in another stool.

"So - what exactly are you looking for?" he asked somewhat awkwardly.

"Anything." Sam's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Anything that can help."

Merlin shrugged and opened another book. He knew that often, when someone you loved was doing poorly, you would rather look after their wellbeing yourself than trust them to another's care. Such it seemed to be with Sam and Frodo. 

In a way, Sam reminded him of himself - though more rustic and more loyal than he was. For Sam put Frodo's wellbeing above his own, while Merlin wondered if he would ever actually sacrifice himself for Arthur. 

 _It wouldn't be worth dying for that clotpole,_ he thought. 

Yet, now that the thought entered his mind, he couldn't seem to get it out. Was he loyal enough to die for the future king of Camelot? The dragon had spoken of the great destiny that Arthur had, and hinted that this might lead to the end of persecution against magic.

Merlin cupped his chin in his hand. Wasn't that worth protecting? And, hadn't he already taken risks so that Arthur - so that that future of the realm- could be preserved?

Perhaps he and this hobbit were even more alike than he had thought at first. 

Suddenly, Sam gasped and turned to Merlin. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to something in one of the tomes. Merlin leaned over to read it.

_The Isle of the Blessed and the Exchange of Lives_

His eyes widened, and he took the book out of Sam's hands. "This one - this isn't one you want to read," he said. "It's about something different. It won't help Frodo."

"But it said that if a person were very ill -"

"It means if someone's dying. No, trust me, this one is _completely_ boring." He carried it back over to a shelf. "And Frodo's not dying, so we have nothing to worry about." 

Sam studied Merlin's face, then glanced back at the book. "Alright, then." He pulled out a new one and kept reading. Merlin sat down with a lump in his throat. 

The Isle of the blessed...

Nimue...

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After collapsing during his walk, Frodo is found by Gwen.

Frodo stumbled through the evening heat, pushing through the crowds that always seemed to flood Camelot, and shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun.

There were woods outside of the city gates, and he thought a walk through these might do him some good, if he could reach them before dark. Frodo was in no way opposed to walking at any distance - in fact it reminded him of home, and the walks he would often take with Bilbo in a long gone season of his life. But getting to these woods was the problem. And the mass of people pressing past him on every side made him feel very crowded and very, very small. 

He stopped in a quieter section of street, panting. He could feel sweat running down his neck and the back of his head, and the collar of his shirt scratched his neck. Frodo pressed a hand onto his temples, trying to focus on something through the blasted heat. Perhaps he should just turn back. Sam did not know he was out here, and might get worried. He should turn back. He -

 _You cannot hide_. 

Frodo froze suddenly as the words tore across his mind. He looked around, wondering,  _hoping_ that they had simply been spoken by some other wanderer who was passing... but no, they were words heard by his mind, not his ears, and -

_You cannot hide; there is nowhere you can go that my eye will not find you._

Fire flashed before his eyes, and Frodo blinked, trying to clear himself of the image. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

 _This isn't real,_ he heard his own voice crying in reply, though his lips did not move. A hideous laughter echoed all around him. Frodo opened his eyes and looked around, trembling, at the stones and lava of Mount Doom all around him. 

 _Fool!_ laughed the voice of Sauron - or of the Ring - if indeed there was any difference between them.  _There is nothing else that is real. Now that you have destroyed me you have merged yourself to my power more fully than ever before. You are nothing any longer._

 _No, this cannot be happening,_ Frodo thought wildly. He had been healing, he had been getting better -

The scar on his collarbone flashed with pain. Frodo felt his back hit the wall and slide down as he slumped to the ground. 

 _You are nothing, Frodo Baggins,_ sneered the voice as he lost consciousness.  _And soon, you will join me in death._

 

Gwen heard a cry from outside her house. She quickly set down the broom she held and ran out the door, looking around for the source of the cry. To her surprise, no one seemed to be there. Strange. She was sure she had heard something...

Rounding the corner, her eyes fell upon a small figure huddled in a cloak, no larger than a child. As she bent down, she realized that this was one of the Ringbearers who were here to be treated by Gaius. Everyone had heard of their arrival, but they mostly stayed in the castle. Though, judging from what Morgana had told her, this one was probably -

"Frodo?" asked Gwen. "Are you alright?"

The ringbearer did not stir. Gwen dropped to her knees beside him and felt for a pulse. Yes, he was alive, but unconscious. She stood up and looked around. This part of the city always felt deserted...

"Hello!" she cried. "I need someone to help me! There's a man here, he's hurt..."

No one came. Gwen huffed in frustration. 

"Is there  _anybody_ who can -"

"Guineveire?" 

Gwen turned around to see the Prince of Camelot standing in the street, with a hand on his sword and a confused expression on his face. 

"Arthur!" She gestured to Frodo lying in a heap. "I just came outside, and he was there like that."

"Well do you know what happened?"

"No," said Gwen patiently. "All I know is that we have to get him back to Gaius. Can you please carry him?"

Arthur's face wrinkled in confusion. "Why?"

" _Because, sire,_ I'm going to run ahead and get Gaius, and I need someone to carry Frodo."

"His name's Frodo?"

"Arthur, please."

"Fine." The prince took the hand off of his sword and lifted up the limp halfling in his arms. "Where should -"

"Thank you, Arthur!" called Gwen over her shoulder as she ran off towards the physician's chambers. "Just bring him along as fast as you can, please!"

 

Gaius and Gandalf both looked up in confusion as Gwen skidded to a halt in the doorway of the chamber. "My dear," said Gaius, rising. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes." Gwen shut the door and strode up to him. "It's Frodo. He was outside of my house and I couldn't wake him."

"Did he say anything?" asked Gandalf, rising as well.

"No, nothing. He was like that when we found him."

"We?" asked Gaius. "And where is he?"

"Arthur's carrying him. He should be here soon." 

Gaius swept over to his jars of medicines and began pulling some out. "I feel responsible," he muttered. "I suggested the poor boy go out on a walk. Seems it did him little good." He turned towards Gwen. "Did you note anything unusual about him - a flushed complexion or some sort of rash across his face?"

"No, he looked completely normal." Gwen came over to the table. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, thank you very much," replied the physician.

"Wait," said Gandalf. "You could perhaps run over to the library. Sam is there and he will want to know of Frodo's condition."

"Alright," said Gwen. She pulled the door open and slipped out, just as Arthur came in carrying the weak hobbit.

"Lay him down here," directed Gaius, pulling back the blanket on a small cot. "And then please run and fetch a bucket of water."

"Why can't Merlin do it?" 

"Merlin is not here right now. Set aside your pride and do what is right."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he followed Gwen out of the room. 

"What do you think happened?" asked Gandalf, sitting down in a chair beside the cot.

"I do not know." Gaius sighed heavily. He had thought that perhaps Frodo was on the mend; that he would begin to recover and could in time go home. He began to fear that there would never be a full recovery. Sam seemed better; less agitated, with fewer complaints of nightmares; but because Frodo was often panicked, Sam was often attending to him and thus neither of them were entirely free. Nor, Gaius suspected, would they ever be. "I do not know," he repeated. "But I fear that, whatever is amiss, there is little that can be done."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another attack comes.

The door burst open and Sam sprinted in, pushing past Gandalf and Gaius. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried. "Are you hurt? Gwen came and she said you'd -"

He tripped over a heavy clay jar and fell on his face. Frodo suppressed a laugh.

"Hello, Sam," he said. 

Sam climbed sheepishly to his feet. "Hullo, Mr. Frodo." 

"Frodo has had some sort of a fainting spell," explained Gaius, coming up behind Sam holding a bowl of blue liquid. "But he'll be just fine in no time - provided you give him air to breathe."

"Yes sir, Mr. Gaius," Sam mumbled sheepishly. He crept over to Frodo's side and took his hand. "Are you goin' to stay here tonight, Mr. Frodo? In case you have another spell and you need more medicine?"

"No, I think I will go back to our room," said Frodo, sitting up; Sam caught his arm and helped him. "If you can help me, Sam dear."

Sam nodded and looked over to Gaius - and with a start noticed Gandalf hovering in the corner leaning on his staff. The old wizard smiled. 

"A good idea. Why don't you two go over there?"

"Oh, but bring this." Gaius poured the mixture from the bowl in his hand into a small glass vial and handed this to Frodo. "And drink it before you go to bed and after you first wake up." 

Sam nodded and helped Frodo up. The Ringbearer glanced over his shoulder. 

"Thank you," he said, though to which wizard, it was not quite certain. Both nodded, and he turned and Sam led him gently away. 

 

Merlin flopped down onto the cool grass of a hill outside of Camelot and exhaled. He had finished his duties early, he had taken Sam to the library, he had eaten dinner. Now, the last lines of the sunset were fading into the sky, and he looked up at them, letting his thoughts chase themselves around his mind like rabbits. 

He wondered if Frodo was dying, and if he was, what would happen? Poor Sam would be left alone, but he would probably go home and so would the Wizard, Gandalf, and life in Camelot would continue as always. The only difference would be that, for a moment, their lives would have intersected and the course of them would have run side-by-side before splitting again. 

But if Frodo was dying, and Sam found out, something horrible would happen and change that course...

Merlin looked around to confirm that nobody was in the vicinity, then opened his satchel and withdrew the book that he had technically stolen from the library. 

The isle of the blessed. The exchange of lives.

It was a little stupid to assume that Sam would read the book and try to follow it, but Merlin didn't want to take any chances.

He opened the book's cover and flipped through it. Sure enough, there written in a scrawled hand was an explanation of the balance of life. 

When a person was destined for death, their soul had already been claimed. A life had to be taken - if that person was kept alive by spells or potions, the balance of the world would be upset. Only by someone dying in their place could that balance be restored.

Sam and Frodo had a relationship which Merlin could not quite figure out. Sam was a servant, but he was treated as a friend, almost a brother, and while he deferred to Frodo, his affection for him was clear. Merlin had never really cared for Arthur - he saved his life because he had to. But they were certainly not friends, and Arthur clearly despised him... and if he ever found out about Merlin's powers, he would despise him even more...

With a pang, Merlin realized that he couldn't even call his relationship with Arthur complicated because there was no relationship. They were not friends. Merlin was a servant, and would only ever be a servant. 

But Sam would die for Frodo and would do so willingly...

Merlin picked up the book, carried it under a dead tree nearby, and covered it in dry leaves. Better to be safe than sorry. 

 

Darkness fell like rain. 

Fire filled the sky and choked the life from the air. 

Frodo tossed and turned, half awake, half still lost in torment. He could hear Sam's voice calling to a guard, asking the man to run and get Gaius because something was wrong...

 _You cannot hide_ , hissed the Voice again. 

 _Leave me!_ Frodo cried in his mind. He forced his eyes open, but the world around him was hazy and distant... it looked as it had when he'd worn the Ring.

His heart rate speeding, he turned around to run and saw himself lying paralyzed in his bed. Frantic, he held up his hands before him.

They were invisible.

He had entered the spirit realm. Sauron's world. 

 _You cannot hide,_ laughed the voice as Frodo covered his head.  _I see you, and this time, there can be no escape._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo falls into a coma. Sam gets a dangerous idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been studying for my PSAT, and started homeschool again, so my life is really really busy and I have therefore not posted any chapters. I am so sorry. I will really try, but it will probably be hard. Luckily the story ends soon (chapter ten will be the last.) Thanks for sticking around.

Frodo was gone. 

Gone from Camelot, gone from the room around him. All he saw when he closed his eyes (or opened them - it hardly mattered) was the darkness and the fire of Sauron's world. Everything was hazy like it had been when he slipped the ring onto his finger, and from far away, he felt a pain burning on the collarbone of his physical body. The body he was now almost entirely detached from. 

 _I'm going to die, aren't I?_ he asked.

Sauron laughed.

 

"What is happening?" thundered Gandalf.

"I don't know!" Gwen's hands shook helplessly and she turned with tears on her face. "One of the guards found me, so I came -"

"Where is Gaius?"

"Sam just went for him." Gwen glanced back at Frodo. "I've tried everything I can think of and he won't - he won't wake up."

Gandalf nodded. "Very well. Thank you, Guinevere. And do not despair! You have not harmed him, and it may be that you have helped him to some degree. Now go! Send Merlin, if you find him on your way, and if not alert the King."

Gwen nodded and fled the room. 

Now alone, Gandalf closed the doors and windows and returned to the cot. He waved his hand slowly over Frodo's sweaty brow and whispered, " _Fallaniorhael._ "

Nothing happened. Frodo did not wake up. 

 

A moment later Sam burst into the chamber and ran back over. "Is he awake? Is anything changed?!"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Gandalf replied as Sam took Frodo's hand. "Though I must say I am surprised you were able to tear yourself from his side."

"Gwen said it were the only thing I could do," Sam gulped. "To help." He nodded to the door. A moment later Gaius came through it with a satchel in hand.

"What happened?" he asked. 

"I don't know." Sam choked. "I was just clearing off his desk, he always leaves it all a-clutter, but then he started cryin' out and I looked over an'..." Sam shook his head. "And he was like this."

"Hmm." Gaius pursed his lips. "Fine. Is Merlin coming?"

"Was he not with you?" asked Gandalf. 

"No. I haven't seen him." Sam looked back at Frodo. "Is he going to die?"

"Sam-"

"I want to know!" Sam said firmly, turning back to Gandalf. "Don't lie to me!"

Gandalf sighed heavily and sat in a chair. He drew a deep breath. "Before we left," he said, "Arwen Evenstar, now the Queen of Gondor, offered to Frodo her place upon the last ship to leave Middle-Earth." He looked over at the still hobbit lying on the bed. "Frodo turned it down. He said he wished to remain in this world, with you, and suffer through whatever pains that would bring. For he believed there was healing to be found for him in Camelot." 

As soon as he spoke those words, the wizard felt a pang, realizing they were true. Frodo had thought he could be saved, thought that he would live on after healing here. And Gandalf had let him believe that. He had brought him to this. 

"Sauron has corrupted him, mind, body, and spirit," said Gandalf quietly. "I have led him here... to his doom."

Sam watched him with wide, tearful eyes. "So he will die?"

"Eventually... yes." 

Sam looked back at him, then to Frodo. He shook his head. "No."

"Sam -"

"NO. I won't let that happen."

"There is nothing you can do," said Gandalf. "Nothing even I or Gaius can do, Sam."

"There is - There must be  _somethin'_ -" Sam fell short suddenly. 

"Sam?"

"I'll be right back." He went back over to Frodo, and kissing his hand, smoothed the blanket over him. "D'you hear, sir? I'll be right back and you'll be right as rain in no time."

"Sam -" began Gandalf, but abruptly Sam was gone from the room. 

Gandalf sank down into the chair again, and Frodo slept on nearby. His hand lay cold and pale upon the coverlet, not moving. The only indication he still lived was the rise and fall of his chest, but even that was slight, and likely to stop at any moment. Gandalf had brought him to this. The ship had likely already left the world, and even if they could get Frodo to it on time, who was to say he would still be granted passage without the star of Lady Arwen?

He could see the scene, if he closed his eyes - Frodo holding the white token of heaven in his hand, and then gently pressing back into Arwen's fingers.  _"Thank you, lady, but I will remain in this world, with Sam. Without him I should find no healing, even in the blessed realm."_

What was Sam going to do?

What would it matter?

Everything they had done - Gandalf, Sam, Aragorn, the entire fellowship - had been for Frodo. Oh, they claimed it to be for the Ring, but the Ring and Frodo had become so alike, so entwined, that their fates had become the same. But if Frodo could be prolonged, separated from the evil powers and granted life, well then their lives would fall, and decay to ash, so that he might live. For Gandalf owed him that. Bilbo had needed the adventure Gandalf sent him on, many a year ago, but Frodo had chosen it, and yet not chosen it, and those two realities ran side-by-side, as closely knitted as ring and bearer. 

_He could have given the Ring to another, yet once he had it his fate was already sealed._

Gandalf looked back at the sleeping hobbit on the bed. Did he know, somehow? All along?

"Forgive me," he said quietly. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Isle of the Blessed, fate can be changed. To save a life a life must be given. Thus the balance is restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I wrote this chapter, I was listening to the musical "Pippin", which is I guess appropriate. XD

Sam ran. 

He didn't care how many people he crashed in to, how many courtiers and servants shook their heads at him. Instead he pressed on, pushed past them, and ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. 

The sound of the footsteps and the pounding of his own heart thrummed against his ears. His pulse seemed to be echoing off the walls around him. Which way was the library?

Moments later he skidded to a halt before the great oaken doors. A stich ripped at his side, and he doubled over for a brief painful second before straigthening up. The doorknob, unfortunately, had not moved since his last visit here, and was still several inches above his head. Sam glared up at it, as if that would cause it to change. 

_You aren't never stopping me._

He threw his weight against the door, and as he did, jumped for the knob. With his fingertips he managed to twist it just enough to swing it slightly. Sam fell through the doorway and landed in a heap on the patterned rug. 

"May I help you, Master Gamgee?" asked Geoffery from where he was restocking shelves nearby. 

"Yes," said Sam as he dusted himself off. "I need the book."

"Which one? There are many here, as you may have-"

"The one I was lookin' at the other day," Sam interrupted. "The fancy cover with the gold bookmark."

"Ah, yes." Geoffery frowned. "Though, I'm afraid King Uther has dictated that that book be moved to our restricted section. He fears it may be -"

"Just get it," snapped Sam, and he looked so vehement and determined that Geoffery scuttled off at once, returning a moment later with the tome. 

 _This is a life or death_   _thing here_ , Sam reminded himself as he sat at the table, feet a foot above the floor. 

Before him sat the book that Merlin had tried to hide from him the other day, the one that Sam had gone back and pulled off the shelf again moments later when the physician's assistant wasn't looking. In Sam's experience, when people tried to hide something from you, that meant it was likely because it was something important. Like when Frodo had hidden the story of the Ring so long ago - could it really have been less than two years? - so he, naturally, had looked back at that book. And there it was, the exact explanation of how to save Frodo, written out before his eyes. 

To save a life, a life must be taken. That was the balance of the world described in this myth, if it was a myth. Sam had wanted to think so at first, because oh... well, he knew himself, and he knew he would pursue it in a heartbeat, and if it were fake he couldn't do that. Not because he had anything in this world more important than Frodo, but because Frodo would hate to wake up and know that Sam was gone and -

_Stay calm and read, you numbskull._

Isle of the Blessed. 

To save a life, a life must be taken. That would restore the balance. And according to this myth, though hopefully it wasn't a myth, this Isle was located near the Great Seas of Meredor. Was that close? Could he make it?

If it were possible to make it in time, Sam would make it. And even if it wasn't possible, he would likely make it anyway. 

"I need a map," Sam said, snapping the book shut. "Please." 

Geoffery gave him a strange look, but said nothing, and returned a moment later bearing a scroll. Sam unrolled it and studied the map.

Figuring this thing was accurate, if he left now, right now, he could make it to these Great Seas with time to spare to look for the island, in case the location wasn't obvious. Half a day could be too late, but it was better than nothing. And besides, Sam trusted the wizards to keep Frodo alive as long as possible. Surely half a day was reasonable. But he would have to ride, and no pony could make that trip, not one that Sam had ever seen. No, it was go on foot and make it too late, or steal a horse. 

_Steal a horse it is._

"I'm borrowin' this!" Sam called, rolling up the map quickly. Geoffery called something after him, but he was already running out the door. 

The other difficult bit was that he would have to leave now, right now. Which meant he wouldn't get to say goodbye to Frodo before... well, before he died. 

Hopefully he'd understand. 

Sam hurried down the steps to the courtyard and ran as fast as he could for the stables. His breath was short, lungs screaming in protest, but he kept running, not willing to let his own weakness be Frodo's undoing. Up ahead, the stables came into view. A groom led out a horse by the reins, apparently taking it out for a rider. Sam groaned when he noticed Prince Arthur standing nearby, gloves in hand. When he had decided to steal a horse, he hadn't quite meant the one belonging to Camelot's prince.  _Well, there's nothing for it._ If worst came to worst he would fight the prince and the groom and all of Camelot, so long as he made it to that Isle in time. 

That thought decided upon, Sam took off running and shoved at the groom hard enough to send the man to the ground. 

"Hey!" the man exclaimed as he got up. Sam ignored him and grabbed the reins instead. "That is Prince Arthur's horse!"

"What are you doing?!" cried Arthur, a pace behind. Sam ignored him too and putting one foot on a stirrup, clumsily launched himself onto the horse's back. "Are you -  _taking that?!_ "

"Sorry sir, but I need it more than you do right now!" Sam yanked on the reins, hoping a horse worked the same way as a pony. Sure enough, the poor beast reared up and then took off at a run. Arthur and the groom fell back. 

"Guards!" screamed the groom as Sam thundered away. "Guards!"

The horse tore down the streets of Camelot, sending civilians running. Guards chased after on foot, but were soon lost from view as the mad beast outran them. Sam clung to the reins for dear life, feeling the sickest since being in a boat. 

_And this is worse than that boat was._

Two guards up ahead were scrambling to lower the portcullis; Sam ducked, and he and the horse managed to shoot just underneath and out of the city. Behind, the guards had shut themselves in. 

The horse halted finally, and Sam gently guided it into a new direction.

"Good boy," said Sam. "Are you a boy? Good job at any rate." He sighed. "I hope you know where you're goin'."

Less than twelve hours from now, he would be dead. But Frodo would be safe and Sauron wouldn't have won and that was all that mattered.

_One ring to rule them all._

_One ring to find them._

_One ring to bring them all._

"Let's go," said Sam, moving his mount to a gallop.

_And in the darkness bind them._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin realizes his drastic mistake, and Sam's quest reaches a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here on the shores of Avalon we reach the end of our fellowship. A year in the making, and this fanfic is finally done. Thank you to everyone who read. I've changed a lot as a writer over the course of this story, and I'm just glad if anyone has been able to appreciate what I created. 
> 
> Also: happy late birthday to my amazing friend and editor for whom I made this story, and for whom I now complete it. :) Love you immensely. 
> 
> If you like me, my work, or just this one fic, please consider buying me a coffee through ko-fi.com/hgwarrender. It would mean a lot. ;D

Merlin ran to the library yet again. These past few days had brought him here more than he had been here in all of his time at Camelot, and under these circumstances, that was not a good thing. Not in the least. 

These visitors had brought more turmoil than anyone had foreseen, but now that he was invested in assisting them, he couldn't back out. He wouldn't let Sam jeopardize his life to save Frodo's, and he wouldn't let the Ring-Bearer fade from the world. He wouldn't let it happen. He couldn't. Besides, he understood Frodo's pain, and remembered it from all those months ago when he had drank poison to save Arthur. All too quickly, the memories flooded back to him - the feeling of the illness creeping through his body, as his muscles slowly lost their power to move. How he lay in darkness, barely able to breathe, with no control over his own body. 

Gaius had later told Merlin that he had somehow spoken through his illness. He had called Arthur's name, shouting something about light, and balanced an orb of magic on his sweating palm. But Merlin couldn't remember that, and Arthur wouldn't speak of his quest for the antidote. It had been so strange, to wake up and know that entire days of his life had passed. And those days were lost to him now, never to be regained. 

Geoffery was in the library, as always. Merlin approached him. 

"Ah, Merlin. You're the second visitor to seem so glum."

"Who was the first?" Merlin asked, even though he already knew the answer. 

"It was one of the guests, young Samwise. He took a map and a book."

"And then where did he go?" asked Merlin. 

Geoffery's face wrinkled into a frown. "Well, that's just it. Some of the guards came a moment later to inform me that he had stolen a horse, and that if he returned, I was to call for them immediately." 

"What?" Merlin had certainly not expected that.

"Oh, and I must have a word with you about the book he took. Earlier this week, one of the guards on patrol found it amidst some dead leaves outside the gates. You see, it was the same one you two were looking over earlier. You realize that it could have been damaged, don't you? I've decided that I'll have to restrict your borrowing policies for a while -"

_No._

He had taken such care to bury that book.

He had endangered himself by taking it - even endangered Arthur, as a theft would reflect poorly on his master. But he had decided it was worth it to save their guests. 

He had made sure Sam would not find it. But then, the book had not only been found, it had been returned to the library, and dropped directly into the unfortunate hobbit's callused brown hands. 

It was as if Fate herself was against the young Ringbearers. 

Merlin ran back out of the library without hearing the rest of what Geoffery was saying, then second guessed the motion and ran back in. "Did he say where he was going?" 

"No, but he took a map."

"Do you have another copy?" Maps were hard to make, and thus hard to come by, but Camelot had more than anywhere else Merlin had seen in his life (a limitied selection, to be sure, but that hardly mattered now.) The Isle of the Blessed was not a place Merlin had made it his business to become especially acquainted with. If he started out now, blind, he would never hope to reach it before Sam. 

By some miracle, Geoffery nodded. "Indeed, there were a few other copies made, some more recent. I was going to suggest a few of them to the young man, but he dashed off with the first one I gave him before I could give him other options."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. "May I have one?" 

"No."

"Wha- but I need it!"

"I am sorry, young Merlin, but as I said before, your borrowing policies have been restricted after the incident with the former book." 

"Just give me this one map!" Merlin practically begged. "And I, I'll follow the restrictions for as long as you like. I'll even help you clean up around here if you want. Please just give me this -"

"My decision is not reversable, young Merlin. If you find young Samwise, please alert a guard at once." And Geoffery returned to whatever was spread across his desk, indicating that their conversation was at an end. 

Merlin wanted to scream, to swear and throw something (prefferably with magic). He considered grabbing a map and making off with it all the same, but as he took a step towards the shelves with the scrolls, Geoffery shot him a sharp look and reached for the bell to summon the guards. Merlin scowled and stormed down the hallway. 

Fine, a second plan. He would find Gaius and have Gaius get the map for him. His feet pounded the stones as he flew down the hallway. 

Sam, a young boy, so loyal and so strong, was on his way to a harsh death at the hands of a merciless monster who had almost taken Merlin's own life, and Frodo dying nearby -

 _Oh, enough!_ Merlin screamed at his own mind, and he forced his feet to keep moving, his skinny legs flashing back and forth to carry him onward. He was surprised to find tears welling up in his eyes, streaking through the air behind him as they dashed down his cheeks. Thoughts swirled in his head, beating upon his brain and skull, crowding down to the opening of his throat in line to be released as a scream. His chest heaved, and his lungs cried out for the air he was sucking in too fast, too little, too quickly gone. He lifted his hands to his burning, trembling face and ran on blind. 

For all he knew, Sam was already dead, or very near to it. 

For all he knew, Frodo was sitting up in bed, healed and ruined, and alone. 

 _Stop it!_ Merlin thought back to himself.  _Just keep running. Get to Gaius._ He skidded to a stop in the corridor as the hallway branched in two directions. Would Gaius be in Frodo's quarters, or his own? Left, or right? 

He ducked right and kept running -

\- right into the armored figure of Prince Arthur. 

Merlin jumped back and held up a hand. "I am so sorry, sire."

"Oh, look who decided to show up." Arthur glared down the one inch height difference. "Surely not the same servant who decided to shrik his duties, or leave polishing my armors to one of the pages."

"Arthur, I am so sorry," said Merlin, stepping further back, "But I need to take time off today."

"Ah, so you're telling me your schedule now? Convenient."

"Arthur, there's something I have to do, and if you knew what it was, you'd see - you'd see it's more important than serving you."

"...Which is your job."

Merlin tried to shove past the prince, but Arthur moved to block his way. 

"Why not tell me what it is?"

"It won't make sense, I just need to find Gaius so I can get a map -" 

_Wait._

"Come with me," Merlin commanded suddenly, grabbing Arthur by the arm. 

"Wait - Merlin, let me go!"

But Merlin started running again, leaving the Prince little choice but to follow. Gaius would be the first option to know about this plan of his, but Arthur was a fine substitute. He was the only option if Merlin wanted to make it in time. 

Merlin ran back the way he had come, dragging Arthur along behind him as the prince spouted indignancies. In his head, thoughts screamed, and he ignored them. 

He knew all the arguments of despair and would not listen to them.

His will was set, and only Death would break it. 

 

Sam rode, and Frodo watched. 

By some torment and power of Sauron, Frodo hovered in the Ring-world by his friend's side, watching Sam's quest through shaking shadows. 

 _He will die,_ Frodo thought as he watched his dearest friend stumbling through the forest. He clung uneasily to the horse. The sight was almost sweet, and Frodo could imagine one similair in the Shire, when he had gotten Sam onto a pony for the first time.

_I ain't going on that thing, Mr. Frodo, I really won't. It'd throw me off, I know it, and I could be hurt. Or supposin' it threw me over water, when we crossed the creek? I'd be drownded for sure, I know it._

_Then I shall ride with you, and I'll even steer if you like. And we need not go over the creek if you don't wish to._

_I'm still not so sure..._

_Afterwards, I'll have Bilbo let you off your duties for the day. Your flowers will be fine for a few hours outside your care. And to celebrate we can have the mushrooms we picked last night_.

_Well... maybe..._

And later, as they stumbled into Bag End, faces flushed with the triumph of the ride -  _We'll make a rider of you yet, Sam lad._

Frodo felt tears creeping down his cheeks, but found that he could not move his arm to wipe them away. His body was something he was feeling, and no longer something he was. It was as if there was some other him created behind his eyes, floating through the forest to watch Sam on his quest. 

Sam spoke suddenly, and other-Frodo floated closer to listen. 

"You just speed up there a bit," he was saying, and after a moment Frodo realized he was speaking to the horse. "Mr. Frodo's counting on me. I've not yet let him down, and I don't mean to start now. So on you git!" And he tugged on the reins, urgently, but more gently than a knight of Rohan or Camelot would have done. Frodo felt his other self's face crack in a faint, loving smile, and more tears rained upon his real cheeks. 

"Sam, don't do this," he said, or tried to say. 

Sound issued forth from the lips of his other self, but none came from the one lying in reality. 

And whatever sound this strange version of him made, Sam did not hear it. He rode on, on to his ruin. 

 

"Sire, it is as I said before. We must send messengers to the land of the Ringbearer."

"I am surprised at you, Gaius. It is not like you to abandn a patient for the sake of arguing with me."

"The ailment is beyond my skills. It comes from beyond our realm. There is no more I can do for our guest, and so we must send word to the healers of his homeland."

"What of his companion, the old man? Has he not skill in the arts of medicine?" 

"...Sire-"

"If this is not his calling, why ever did he come here?"

"He is a companion for the ringbearer, my lord."

"I asked you to stay out of this, Morgana."

"But Gaius is right! If we do not send for healers the Ringbearer will die."

"Do you know who these healers are? Where they may be? Has our bearded friend given us any such information?" 

"I have not spoken to him. He is deep in concern for Frodo."

"Something in what you are trying to tell me doesn't add up. You wish to send for healers to come see to the Ringbearer. Yet, a countryman of his who we all believed to be trained in medicine sits at his side. And this man who is  _not_ trained in medicine has not given the names of anyone who is. What do you have to say to that?"

"My king..."

"Your silence speaks volumes. Well, why not go ask him now? In fact I will ask him myself."

"It's rare that you do something for yourself. Why start now?"

"You are bordering on impertinent, Morgana. By the way, have either of you seen Arthur?"

"I'm sure he's around somewhere."

"Indeed. Well, lead the way, Gaius."

Uther rose from his throne. Morgana cast a glance at Gaius. She had visited Frodo a few times since this recent bout of illness began, and knew that the old man who had come as his guardian - Gandalf or whatever his name was - did not like it when Frodo's room became to crowded with visitors. To her surprise, though, the glance revealed that Gaius had gone pale. He nodded a little too quickly and started off. Uther followed, leaving Morgana to bring up the rear. 

The small procession strode through the halls, and as they passed, each guard in turn dropped down to his knees, receiving only a brief nod from Uther in return. Morgana watched with unusual  fascination as the king's head lifted up and then went down again, making the same motion repeatedly, as if it were automatic, as if he didn't notice he was doing it. Did she look like this when she walked through the streets? Had she ever glanced right through someone, acknowledging their exist with only the slightest motion of her head?

Gaius stopped outside of the room, but Uther stepped around him and threw the door open. Morgana followed and had a brief glimpse of the old man over Uther's shoulder. He sat by the bedside with a hand on Frodo's brow, muttering something, his other hand clutching his walking stick. Which she now saw was not a walking stick at all. 

"I knew it," said the king. The old man jumped, and then Uther turned around and Morgana couldn't see him anymore. "Sorcery. GUARDS!"

"Wait!" exclaimed Morgana, pushing past a stuttering Gaius. "Uther, please, he only wants to help -"

"I will not harbor sorcery in my own home!" He whirled towards the old man and jabbed a finger at him. "You would dare to practice this witchcraft, right under my nose? You seek to mock me, with - I will not have it!"

"I am saddened," the man interrupted, "That the mind of Uther has turned to folly and madness like all others in the Five Kingdoms. There is no reason left in Camelot." Considering that he was in danger of being captured by the palace guards, he seemed decidedly calm. He was knocking his staff against the floor in rhythm,  _tap tap tap-tap,_ but no one else seemed to have notice.

"My king, I beg you," Gaius began, but at that moment three guards ran in with spears in hand. 

"Arrest this man!" roared Uther, pointing to the wizard. The guards started forward, but suddenly they were thrown back, as if by a violent wind. 

"This boy saved your kingdom, and all kingdoms upon this Earth," said the wizard with an eerie calm. "And in his time of need I will not be taken from him, not when there is some aid I can give." With that he scooped the Ringbearer up as easily as if he were a rag doll and leapt from the open window.

"No!" Morgana cried. She shoved past Uther and the guards and raced to the window, and when she looked out, she saw a rush of feathers and then a giant eagle flew down towards the falling figures and caught them. The bird let out a loud call, and then flapping its huge wings, bore the two riders away over the forest. 

"Don't just stand there! All forces, after them!" cried Uther. He swept from the chamber with the guards on his heels. 

Morgana turned to Gaius. He was smiling, but very pale. 

"What can we do?" asked Morgana. 

"You can find Sam and alert him. I will take the east wing of the castle."

Morgana nodded. "I'll take the west, then." Gaius nodded and left. Morgana turned and glanced out the window over her shoulder at the eagle shrinking into the distance. Then she followed the physician out of the room. 

They split up, not knowing that the search was already in vain. 

 

Gandalf guided the eagle high over the palace walls and then down towards the tree tops. The arrows of Uther's archers on the walls arched around them, and he ducked low, swerving around them. Once they were out of range they soared above the forest.

"Where to now," Gandalf mumbled to himself. He glanced down at Frodo, who still seemed to be in the trance as before. 

The wizard sighed and lifted his head. Poor Sam was back in the castle with no idea that they had left. 

 

"Poor Sam is off running towards the lake with no idea what he's getting himself into," Merlin finished. 

Arthur sighed. "And...?"

"And... and what?" Merlin felt that he had explained the mess they were in fairly clearly. 

"And are you going to explain why I have been kidnapped?"

"Oh."

Arthur glared from where he was on the horse in front of Merlin's. 

"Right."

After securing the map, Merlin had decided not to waste any time and to head directly to the lake of Avalon to stop Sam. And that meant taking a horse. And that meant having someone who was allowed to take the horses from the stable come with him.

And that meant Arthur had to come too. 

"Look, if you want to turn back, you can turn back." Merlin nudged his horse forward. "I'm sorry I wasted your time. I have my horse now, that was all I needed you for."

"Merlin, when you talk to me, does it  _ever_ occur to you that you're speaking to the prince of Camelot?"

The _prince of Camelot is an utter prat,_ thought Merlin. "I'm sorry,  _si_ _re._ " he said. "Will you be turning back."

"Hmm." Arthur made a face as if thinking deeply ( _really quite impossible for him_ , Merlin thought), and then rode ahead. 

Merlin blinked in surprise. "You're staying?"

"Well, Merlin, I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but my father really dislikes our guests."

"I noticed."

"Thinks they're annoying, and that the glory they've been given is undeserved."

"That's what Gaius said he though. Um, what does this have to do with -"

"In fact, if he knew I were shirking my duties to run off after one of them, I would be in for a very long lecture."

"Then why are you still following me?"

Arthur sighed and looked Merlin in the eye. "Because, Merlin, my father isn't right about everything. And - just this once - I believe you are right. So I'm helping you." 

Merlin felt a broad grin cross his face and watched Arthur mirror the grin. "Great!" he exclaimed. "Could you also stop complaining?"

Arthur snorted and pulled the reins. "I don't believe in you  _that_ much."

 

Merlin's grin slipped. He rolled his eyes. 

Suddenly a shadow passed above them with a loud sound like a roaring gust of wind. Merlin looked up to see a giant eagle swooping above the treetops. Ahead, Arthur let out a high scream, which continued as the eagle turned around and flew back towards them. It dove through the canopy of the forest and towards the ground. Towards them -

"Run!" Arthur cried. He kicked his horse into a gallop, and Merlin followed suit. The eagle let out a loud shriek, and both young men cried out, covering their ears. 

"STOP!" shouted a voice from behind them. 

Merlin glanced back. To his alarm, the eagle was had landed on the ground, and on its' back was a tall man in a gray cloak. Looking closer, Merlin realized it was Gandalf, and there, slung across the eagle's back, was Frodo in a swoon as if dead. 

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted. "Arthur, stop!" 

Arthur pulled his horse to a halt and looked back. Merlin waved him over and rode up to Gandalf. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Why aren't you back at the castle?"

"I could ask you the same question," replied Gandalf. "The king has turned to wrath and sent his guards after me for reasons I do not care to explain to you. I fled with Frodo, but I could not get a message to Sam first."

_Oh. Oh no._

"But why are you in these woods? And why is the Prince with you?"

Merlin looked over at Arthur, who pulled up his horse alongside Merlin's. "We have some bad news." 

 

_Sam wandered into the Mordor cave, where Frodo lifted his eyes._

_"Look what I found for you," he said, trying to sound cheerful as he held out the water skin. Slowly, some light crept back into the darkness of Frodo's eyes, and he reached out. Sam sat down next to him and unslung his pack, taking inventory of the remaining food. There wasn't much, but it might hold if they went on just as they were now. He glanced over at Frodo, who had pressed the half-full skin into Sam's hand. "You want me to take the rest? No, I don't want it. I had some when I found the stream. You take it." When Frodo hesitated, Sam gave the water skin back to him, and it didn't take much convincing before the remaining drops were gone and Sam returned it to his pack. He broke a piece of lembas and handed half to Frodo, and they munched in near silence for a while._

_"You didn't tell me where you were going," said Frodo suddenly._

_Sam looked over at him. Frodo traced his finger absently through the dirt._

_"I thought you had left."_

_Sam smiled a little. "Now why would I do a fool thing like that when I've come all this way?"_

_Frodo lifted his head and met Sam's eyes._

_"We're near the end now," Sam continued, trying to sound reassuring. "And I'm not going nowhere until we see this through."_

_"Or after?"_

_"Nor after. We're gonna stick together, up to the very end."_

_Frodo smiled and returned to his lembas. "Thank you, Sam. Do you know, if it weren't for you, I believe I would have given up by now."_

_"Well then you won't never need to give up. Because you're never going to face anything without me."_

Only now did it occur to Sam that he was breaking that promise. 

 

The great eagle soared low over the treetops while Merlin tried to explain everything while also holding on and not falling off. Arthur stared ahead into the wind, filling in the gaps in Merlin's explanations without breaking his eyes from the sun. 

Gaius searched every room in the wings of the castle. Morgana combed the keep. They did not find Sam. They didn't find Merlin or Arthur either, but that fact did not become apparent until later. Morgana's feet began to blister as she raced to and fro, the unexplainable feeling creeping over her that they were too late and that something terrible was happening. Her shoes rubbed against the blisters. She kicked them off and ran on barefoot. 

Uther tapped his fingers on the throne while knights flitted in sporadically to provide an update. His gloved fingertips moved up, down, thumbing onto the wood in a steady rhythm. This was the rhythm he found in battle. This was the way that his blood pumped when the fields of enemies were at their thickest. This rhythm had never left him. 

Sam rode on through the dimming early evening light towards the place where the sun crept down to meet the horizon. He took out the map occasionally to check his location, but here in the thick of the trees it was hard to guess his position, until suddenly the trees parted and a great lake spread out before him. He scrambled down from the horse and walked forward, to the place where a small boat bobbed along the tides, tied to a small dock with a man at the helm. With his heart pounding, he stepped into the vessel. 

And Frodo lay dying. 

 

"There," said Arthur so suddenly that Merlin jumped. He grasped quickly to the eagle's feathers to steady himself back in place. 

Gandalf nodded, following Arthur's pointed finger to the crescent of blue lake past the edges of the green trees. "Yes. That is where we are going." 

"And what are we going to do?" asked Merlin. 

"Is there any chance that he could wake up?" asked Arthur. "And I'm still confused about why you have to give a life to save a life."

Gandalf didn't answer. 

 

Sam watched in fear as the island came closer. The man at the helm poled the boat through the waters without speaking to Sam.

The water split along the sides, rising up briefly and then falling flat. The sun was setting overhead, reflected on the water. It looked like the water was on fire. It was pretty. Sam slid a hand over the side of the boat into the cool orange-tinted water. His hand hit the side of the moving boat. He pulled back quickly and looked straight ahead again. 

He hoped the horse would find a way back home without him. The creature had no idea what sort of trouble it was getting into, but it had taken him anyway, and for that he was grateful. It seemed cruel to leave the poor creature on the bank, but what else could he do? 

The boat bumped against the island and Sam got out, shivering a little. "Thank you," he stammered. The ferryman didn't reply. Pulling his jacket tighter around him, Sam started forward. The air was cold here and clotted with fog. Not at all something you'd see in the Shire. It was eerily silent. As Sam climbed a set of crumbling stairs to a stone clearing, he felt strangely that he was the only one on this whole island. 

That illusion ended quickly as a woman in a ragged red dress stepped out of the fog. Sam gave a startled cry and then blushed fiercely. "Y-you startled me," he said with an awkward bow. 

"I see that," she said with a faint smile. "I am Nimue. Why have you come here?" 

"I," stammered Sam. "I, um. My friend is dying and I heard... er - I have this book." He took out the book from his satchel and offered it to Nimue. She took it and tucked it under her arm without glancing at it. Her eyes were as blue as Frodo's but as cold as Uther's. Sam couldn't look at them directly. 

"Yes?" said Nimue softly. 

Sam forced himself to look up. "I-I'm here to die."

"For the Ringbearer?" 

Sam hadn't said anything about Frodo and by now was very uncomfortable and very afraid. He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. "Yes."

"He is fading," said Nimue, closing her eyes. "I see your concern. His soul is fading from this world. Already it fades into darkness."

Sweat trickled down Sam's brow. "Is he alright?"

 "No," said Nimue with a trace of irony in her voice. Her voice was setting Sam on edge and he didn't mind admitting it. It was like she was running a knife along his soul but not cutting yet. Would she use a real knife? Would she snap her fingers and make him stop existing? There was something magical about her, but not like Gandalf or Merlin (Sam could tell Merlin had magic. Anyone with real eyes could, probably.) Her magic seemed dark like those gloomy clouds up above. Would those clouds be the last thing he ever saw? "You are nervous." 

Sam jumped at Nimue's words. "A little," he admitted. "Please, I have to save him."

"Of course you do." Nimue turned away from him. "Follow me." 

She led him over to a basin with a chalice inside it and stepped onto a stone slab beside the basin. It looked like the mirror of Galadriel, and that thought reminded Sam of his vision seen in that mirror. Of Frodo, lying with a pale face. Once he thought that was showing him wounded by that spider thing... but what if it wasn't? What had the lady said? Things that are, things that were, things that could be. Well, Frodo dead was something that could be if he didn't stop it here and now. 

"Can you see him?" asked Sam as Nimue drew the chalice from the basin. 

"No, but I can sense him." 

"Where is he?"

Nimue whirled around suddenly and raised the chalice as the sky crackled with lightning and opened with rain. "He is  _right behind you._ " 

 

Sam whirled around to see a great eagle descending through the rain.

 

"Sam!" shouted Merlin, leaping down from the great beast's back. He free fell for five or six feet and landed in a crouch. When he got up, he shoved Sam behind him and stared at Nimue. "You -"

"You," said Nimue with a frown. "You should be dead." 

"Merlin!" called Arthur, hopping down after him. He pushed Merlin behind him and pulled out his sword. "Wait - what are you doing here?" 

"Oh look." Nimue sneered. "The meddling prince is here as well." 

Arthur swung his sword with a cry. Nimue held up a hand and blocked the blow with some pulsing of the air around her fingertips. Arthur tried to move his sword and couldn't, and the witch's head turned to the eagle. 

"Gandalf the Grey," she called as Gandalf climbed off of the eagle. "What brings you out from behind your kingdom's walls?" 

"We have no walls in Middle Earth," replied Gandalf. "I see it is not so for the sorceresses of Avalon." 

"What, this?" Nimue glanced around at the tall stone keep around them. "I must protect my arts."

"Your arts will kill him!" cried Merlin, beckoning to Sam. 

"And that's not your choice!" Sam shoved out from behind Merlin, who was guarding him, past Arthur, who was guarding Merlin, and then around Gandalf, who was guarding Arthur. He stood before Nimue and turned to face all of them. "It's my fault that Frodo's this way. It's  _me_ that he turned down them Undying Lands for. Why, he should be off with the elves and better already."

"But Sam, he stayed  _for_ you," said Gandalf almost imploringly. "He does not want to recover and find you dead for his sake." 

Sam looked to the limp form still slung across the eagle's back.  "I know," he said. "But that's what he's getting. Tell him I'm sorry." He glanced at Nimue. "I'm ready." 

"NO!" shouted Merlin as Nimue lifted the chalice. Before he knew what he was doing he stumbled forward. Before he could push out of the way, Arthur swung forward and brought the sword down in a wide slash. The chalice splashed out of Nimue's hand and clattered across the ground. She cursed and chased after it. 

"Do not touch the water!" Gandalf commanded Merlin and Arthur as he tried to restrain Sam. The sturdy hobbit pulled away. Merlin hopped over the spreading puddle of shimmering water from the chalice. 

"Sam, you can't do this!" he cried. "This is black magic! She could kill you and still leave Frodo dead!" 

"But there's a  _chance_!" Sam shouted back, tears and rain pouring down his face. He had run to the eagle and was standing by Frodo. When he tried to get any closer the bird reared up and tried to grab him. He jumped back to keep his distance.

Merlin felt a cold sweat break under his neckcloth and whirled his head towards the sorceress. She stood with an sword suddenly materialized in her hand, locked with Arthur's, and her chalice in the other hand. She threw a wide slash, knocking Arthur off balance, and jabbed at his side. He fell back with a cry and then scrambled desperately to his feet. Nimue tried to swing again, but her arm froze suddenly as if held in place. Merlin turned to see Gandalf with his staff outstretched. Arthur's eyes were wide. Sam's were determined as he ran towards the basin again. It didn't seem to matter to Gandalf. He seemed to be in the belief that if he could hold Nimue back, he could stop her from performing her ritual

But Merlin had seen something the wizard hadn't, and that was the dark cloud forming above Sam. It moved with him. Suddenly Merlin guessed at Nimue's intention - if she could not use the cup to exchange Sam's life, she would use the lightning. 

Merlin knew it was Sam's choice. He knew argument was pointless. And he knew that there was only one way to stop that cloud from sending off a bolt. 

In an instant it all clicked. 

To save a life a life must be taken. 

Killing Nimue would save Frodo. 

But to save one life, two would likely be lost. Because Merlin had to kill Nimue with magic. And Arthur was right there watching him. 

The lightning crackled in the sky.

 _Sam, no!_ Frodo screamed as his friend stopped to look up at the bolt above their heads. He raced forward and wrapped both spirit arms around his friend, wailing that his weak body lay so close unable to help.  _Move! Move! Please move away!_

Sam didn't move away, but Frodo felt those familiar strong arms secure around his spirit form. He lifted his face to see Sam smile. 

_You can see me?_

"I'll be waiting for you," Sam answered. 

Merlin reached out a hand and let out a cry in the form of one single word. 

Nimue's head shot up. Merlin spell left his hand, just as the lightning spiked from the sky. For a single moment the two beams of golden light hovered over the rain-slick stones, reflecting in puddles. In Arthur's shocked eyes. In Sam's, warm and brown and resigned. 

Then the golden shaft found home, and the world exploded in flame.

Then Nimue stumbled.

Then a cry cut the air. 

And then Frodo's teary eyes snapped open. 

 

 

~Fin~ 


End file.
